


every second of yours is all mine

by osuosu



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Haikyuu - Freeform, High School, Second year, Slow Burn, Swearing, Volleyball, growing pain, relationship, season 4 to the top!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:41:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23950258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/osuosu/pseuds/osuosu
Summary: Imbalance has always existed within a relationship, it's mixed in with inferiority, possessiveness and insecurity. What happens when the bottled feelings finally spill?"If there was anything you were constantly antagonised by with your lukewarm self it was Miya Osamu."
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Reader
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

There is no story here. All moments in life have all been led up by every decision a person makes. Find a person with no bold moves, never calls the shots, someone who lives in a limbo, will they have a story to tell? This unmoving pace you've set is a brick by brick construction of your own prison cell but at the same time you were okay with it.

If there was anything you were constantly antagonised by with your lukewarm self it was Miya Osamu. Who couldn't acknowledge the young wing spiker in Inarizaki? He certainly had the peers and the teachers in his best interest. The younger boys would admire his calm persona, few girls would swoon over a roll of the eyes when his brother talked a little too loud in the cafeteria. Even the teachers held him high their regards- he was a man of stories.

Taking in an interest and being a part of a nation's established volleyball group; Osamu had more talent in his pinky finger than most students in his school. You take in his broad back as you sat behind him in class, it was the only class you had with him and it was your favourite class but it had nothing to do with Osamu and wanting to be close to him, your seat placement was determined by fate which fell upon your teacher's hands. You were just a mere marionette. The girls will no doubt quarrel and fight over being close to him, in that circumstance your teacher knew he had to do something about the frightening hormonal levels that fluxes within the teens.

You on the other hand, you were just grateful to have known his existence. It doesn't take a genius to understand why you like him, although usually popular things quite bore you before you even get a chance to get to know it. But recalling your past relationships you've seen a clear definitive pattern that all the boys you've ever took a liking to were just a little on the mysterious side. You wanted to unfold them like pages of a book you thought to yourself at some point, and to be held by the eyes of someone who could read you too and understand you. You've always assumed that the calm-mannered ones have the best ability to do just that and so from there your bias grew.

But he doesn't look, he almost looks like he doesn't care, whenever you accidentally meet him in his path or when you see his more informal games at the top of the bleachers. It leaves a bitter feeling at the pit of your stomach, you knew certainly well that you were just a background character in his story. A nameless character- _so pathetic_ , you thought.

You had your hair tucked behind one ear and the other over your shoulder just how it always was. Your blue uniform tucked in neatly underneath your navy skirt. It was a pretty uniform but it looked prettier on girls who really grew up well. As you discard your school uniform away and replaced it with your work clothes you could feel a sense dread, the clock read 3:50, in ten minutes you would be busy with the usual cafe rush as students take their time to de stress from school. What made things worse was that you had the closing shift after 4 hours when you desperately needed the time to catch up on a few homework and studying for a test that was coming up. It's inevitable that after tonight your fatigue will drown your motivation to pick up a pencil.

With a soft sigh you closed the cabinet and headed out the staff changing room. "Could you give table three a wipe?" Your coworker asks as you tied on your half apron. The mute grey against the blueish white was the perfect colour to welcome the customers invitingly.

You replied an automatic enthusiastic sure, you've had this job for 6 months, practicing customer service even though you're tired already sunk into your bones. As you take the cloth from the pocket of your apron your eyes widen by a fraction when you see the two familiar figures sitting on table three.

One had his hair shine in a mild chartreuse and stylish as one would call it. His eyes round and full of wonder, it was focused on his twin sitting across from him on the wooden table. The grey haired male had his chin rested under the knuckles of his fist as his eyes fell lazily on his phone.

You wished you had the courage to tell your coworker that you didn't want to clean the table but that would never happen. And so as naturally as you could you began to stride over to the two popular volleyball players, taking away empty dishes from the previous customers. You made it your highest priority to avoid their eyes and focused on balancing the stacked dessert plates an a mug on one hand while cleaning the table with your other hand.

"My leg cramped so bad the heatpack literally didn't do shit, I couldn't sleep for like 4 hours bro-" you overheard Atsumu say. And with a last wipe you head back to the kitchen to clean the dishes. For a moment you debated on staying there forever, but you knew that with the barista being too busy with coffee you had no choice but to brave the circumstances and pray that you don't embarrass yourself in front of them.

The minutes pass by in excruciating seconds, you eyed the docket that was ready for pick up. Two iced long blacks and an almond croissant filled with apricot jam. You assured yourself that they didn't notice you the first time and so the second time would be the same. You spiked the paper onto the holder and walked over to them again.

Once you've recited their order while bringing them down, you expected a short race to the finish line, that is when a rowdy group of guys came into view. As you held the last glass to deliver one of them hastily bumped into you causing a little splash of iced coffee to land dangerously close to his black polished loafers.

_Shit_ , you thought. Rich kids were the worst and through your experience of customer service there was no way around them.

A groan of annoyance slipped through his mouth and his friends laughed behind him- exaggerating the situation.

"I'm so sorry about that," you started to say. "I'm sorry, I'll get you another one in a moment." You said towards Osamu, it seems that the simple mission of delivering a coffee to him would backfire.

"Hey, hey," the strange boy called over to you, you stopped in your tracks before you could get a mop to clean. "Where you going? You just ruined my shoe." He said a little too loudly. You could hear the cafe getting a little quieter to witness his outburst.

"Yes and I'm so sorry about that, I'll bring you a napkin right away-"

"These are Italian loafers," he said it like he was stating a common fact. "It's a thousand dollars, it can't be wiped with shitty tissue. You need to get this cleaned professionally." He said. You notice his blazer and fit, it was obvious that he belonged to a fancy international school. All the extra accessories he wore was branded and shiny, he even lifted his arm to point at his shoes but it was obvious that he wanted to flex on the watch he had.

"I'm sorry?" You said in disbelief.

"You heard me, this is thousand dollars," he said again but this time you couldn't help but roll your eyes and lifted one corner of your mouth- you didn't mean to, but this was truly an unbelievable complaint.

"I'm sorry is there a problem here?" You felt bad that your coworker had to leave her station and clean up this mess, but at the same time she was the manager, maybe she could be the tweezer that can rid the thorn off your side. The rich male confidently explained the situation and demanded for a free professional clean- a $500 stuck up, unnecessary clean at a place he claims to know that are of standard.

"I'm so sorry but that would be impossible for us to do, we could however offer you our store credit and discounts if you'd like." She explained to him, his face changed as if he knew he wasn't getting what he wanted especially since he's talking with the manager.

"Forget it," he waved his hands and that was a sign for his friends to leave the door, "hey, next time don't spill anything you can't afford to fix. These shoes cost more than what you make in month." He said condescendingly as he followed his friends.

That comment cut through you, even though you knew the emotions were a waste to feel, and you knew that you're bound to meet assholes like him when you're working in a cafe but at exhausting days like this the words has the ability to linger in your head far longer than you would like.

For a moment you forgot that the guy you've always been nervously around for had a front row seat to the show. A wave of embarrassment wash over you like the cherry on top of an already awful day.

Your manager pulled you to the back of the house and she asked if you were okay. You told her about the incident and she immediately understood. It was amazing that your coworkers are the type to lift each other up and reassure one another. God knows what will happen if you had a horrible boss, you would probably quit.

Your manager gave you a few minutes to cool yourself down as she headed back to make more coffees and serve at the same time. Feeling guilt that she was doing two jobs in a swamped hour you pushed yourself to come back out with the face of total indifference.

You didn't notice that the twins had already gone when you served another customer adjacent to their table. A small feeling of sadness perked at the back of your head, it wasn't a nice sight for them to see and it's probably what they will remember every time they see your face. But then again there is a chance that they would forget your face or about the incident at all.

As you picked up their glasses and plate, you noted how the glasses were half drunk and the croissant had been zealously eaten as you saw the pastry flakes scatter about the wooden table. It was a messy table. There was a pricking sensation at the back of your eye. With a sigh and a wake up to reality you ignored tears that were begging for a way out.

What were you expecting? That the Miyas would want to make your job easier by leaving behind a cleaner table? It's almost laughable when you think about it again. They didn't notice you the first time and so it would be the same, you knew that for a fact, just as sure as the sky is blue, and yet a small part of you didn't want to believe it.


	2. Chapter 2

The holidays ended and school started yet again. You didn't end up going anywhere except to go to your grandfather's little farm in the countryside. He was an indifferent man, it's clear he had been brought up where emotions were taboo. Every dinner was awkward and he seems to dislike your approach to make small talk. 

Despite his absent and intimidating personality, you quite liked the apple trees he harvests. You spent the winter picking the biggest and ripest of the apples which resulted to a lot of back pain and heat patches- although it could also be due to the fact that you were not used to sleeping on the most thinnest futon.

"I don't have any spares," your grandfather said nonchalantly. 

You, your mother and your grandfather spent the New Years together, eating all sorts of apple dishes from the rejected pile. And being the patient girl you were you never made any complaints, after all both you and your mother had done this every year.

You could hear your classmate talk about how she spent her holiday; a week in Korea and another in Thailand. She went on about how hot the weather was or how chic the Koreans were. It must have been nice, you thought, for a moment you felt angst and the need to be over-emotional over the fact that your holidays are never as exciting as your friends', but then you remembered about your mother and her shifts at the hospital. You mentally slapped yourself.

"Anyways, I didn't mean to talk about myself." She says and she looked at you while studying your face. "So how's your grandpa?" Her voice was optimistic, as if she wouldn't hear the same story she heard last year or the year before.

"He's fine," you replied trying to imitate the same cheer in her voice. You paused for a minute and looked up, trying to find a memorable story to tell.

"I almost stepped on a snake at the farm," her eyes widened with fear. "It was sleeping under the tree, I almost-"

"ATSUMU!" A high pitched squeal broke your sentence. You both turned to the source of the attention. A few girls had already crowded the two- pushing away their friend that was also behind them. The black haired male scoffed and swam through the girls, Osamu followed Rintaro Suna not a second after. Atsumu bathed in the attention for a little while longer after he had noticed that his brother left.

"Hey, I know you." Atsumu pointed at you. Like a deer in headlights you could feel the ominous energy that radiated from the doll eyes around you. He took 5 confident steps towards you and took a seat just in front, his brother and his friend sat near him- Osamu next to you. You could feel your heart beat fast, it was similar to the time where you had carried a cart of apples and ran to where the truck was in fear of the stray dog that barked behind you a few metres away. 

You couldn't think of anything to say but blink in response. He had his arm slung around the back of the chair lazily as he turned his body towards you.

"You worked at the cafe down the street, right?" He knitted his eyebrows together and you were instantly reminded of how similar his facial expressions were to Osamu. 

"Yeah-" he laughed as if he knew he was right in the first place.

His friend gave him a confused look and Atsumu went on to give him the story of how he caught a grand show on the last day of school. You let out a forced smile and felt your friend nudge you on the shoulder.

"Is he for real?" She whispered, before you could respond Atsumu turned his head to you again as if he was demanding your attention. You never knew just how being in his presence felt like you were under a spell.

"You still work there?" He lifted a corner of his mouth, the smirks that seems to grab the girls by their hearts.

"Yes but I'm not working for a while, the owners are still on a holiday." You say sounding as polite as ever. Out of the peripheral vision of your eye you see Osamu holding you in his eyes.

Something had possessed you to connect your sight to his, perhaps you wanted clarity or perhaps you just wanted that one last flutter in your stomach before you put your hopeless crush to rest. 

You looked at him as if you were expecting for him to say something, he didn't turn away or seem nerved about the sudden eye-contact (by this time it made sense that he was used to it). But with lazy roll of his eyes you suspected he grew more annoyed by the amount of attention his brother has already made so early in the morning. 

"'Tsumu you're wearing my socks again," his voice was deep and it rang in your ears like a symphony.

"NO I'M NOT." 

He turned defensive and already forgot about the waitress with the funny story behind him. Not long after school had begun you felt a sense of ease being in his presence, still heavenly, but you managed your calm mien much better.

It was like a splash of water to the face, you could get used to this- having the other twin sitting right beside you and not lose concentration of the teacher's voice.

It was a new year and crushes usually fade over time, this was natural. 

You remembered about the cute looking barista that had started working with you before you had gone to visit your grandpa. He made a latte and due to his lack of experience had steamed the milk too long resulting to a mild burn to his thumb as the milk bubbled over his hand. Instinctively you had fetched ice and brought it to the affected area, you thought again of how his other hand felt under yours as he looked at you and said thank you.

Unbeknownst to you, Osamu stole a few glances throughout homeroom. He took in of how your hair was tucked behind your ear but your other over and falling from your shoulders. Perhaps he stared a bit too long because he couldn't hear his friend calling out to him in half-whisper.

"Huh?" His face lost with confusion.

The raven hair sighed annoyingly and whispered something about volleyball- whatever it was it didn't register in his brain. His thoughts were still hazy, he thought of the lunch menu, how Atsumu took his favourite pair of navy socks, 

and how incredibly cute the girl that was sitting next to him was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you guys are doing well during this pandemic, I just broke up with my boyfriend so writing fluff was difficult haha, more chapters to come :)


	3. Chapter 3

The perks of having the popular boys in your home room had began to benefit you in your mundane days. It's been a few weeks and you had found yourself growing more and more comfortable with their presence- not a star struck lover in the background or one of the stalkers studying their every move but more like an ordinary classmate, perhaps even a friend had you up the effort to engage more in Atsumu's casual greeting.

You were still interested in Osamu no matter how hard you try to get over him, you were not yet able to tame your heart whenever he gives his rare genuine smile (most of the time to tease Atsumu).

Your efforts weren't all for naught until gym class. Out of all the days you had a stomach flu and due to a maths test and a strict teacher you had no choice but to show up. Having to throw up in the cubicle three times was not an ideal way to heal yourself. You had attended gym and stretched on the sidelines instead of participating in running laps around the campus.

A feeling of a gut wrenching pain began to creep as your diaphragm threatened to heave again, and your mouth was dry as if you hadn't drank anything for the last 12 hours. That wasn't the case, you had been drinking the tap water constantly, but it's not plain water you need, you need the ions to replenish the proteins lost in your blood. Your head began to feel dizzy as you hung your head over your thigh.

That's when you caught a glimpse of a cold pocari sweat at the corner of your eye. The white and blue dazzled like a mirage, you were in the middle of the desert and the sight was enough to give you the energy to pursue it. Of course, you thought that the bottle had belonged to somebody else, but seeing it alone and glistening under the winter sun you couldn't resist yourself.

Perhaps somebody had forgotten about it.

Touching the cool plastic you had brought it upon your lips and felt yourself feeling a lot better after downing half the bottle. It was a harmless crime, or so you thought.

Miya Osamu witnessed the girl from his home room drink the beverage he left on the bench just outside the gymnasium. He was perplexed to see how someone could be so desperate to drink a bottle of pocari sweat, and at the same time he felt annoyed as he had the intention to retrieve his drink after a short trip to the bathroom.

"That.. was mine." He stood beside your form and watched you nearly choke on your last sip.

Feeling your heart beat through your ribcage you almost knew what it felt like to be caught in the middle of a robbery, a 100 years sentence to jail was the consequence, you'd take that in a heartbeat instead of the upcoming shame and embarrassment.

You forced down the liquid and ignored the urge to cough, "O-osamu, I'm really sorry, I didn't know- I thought somebody left it."

"Are you feelin' okay?" He grew suspicious of your form as he noticed that you looked a bit paler than usual.

To your surprise you didn't exactly think that he would be concerned about you. "Yeah, not really. I'm a little sick." You see him purse his lips and nod in acknowledgement. You tucked your hair behind your ear in your usual nervous habit. "I'll get you another one," you said quickly while fishing your pocket for spare change (that you knew you didn't have, the school vending machine was way overpriced).

"No," his voice like honey sliding down your ears, "I don't really feel like it anymore. Buy me an onigiri after school." It wasn't even a question. As expected, Miya Osamu was a man who knows what he wants.

The sudden bluntness took you aback but he gave you one of his small smiles before leaving to his class. Just as you thought you had gotten yourself out of the pit hole you fall even deeper for him.

_Was it a date? It's date! Oh, my god it's a date. No, it's not a date. It's just paying him back for the drink, him, alone? Will we be alone? Will his brother be there? Will his team mates be there? So it's really not a date. But if I see him alone, will it be a date?_

The cycle of thoughts continued to run through your head the rest of the school hours.

You had never dreaded but also looked forward to anything in your entire life. In your mind you've played 52 scenarios about how it would play out. The least interesting one would be the possibility that he was solely interested in the seaweed wrapped rice, the most suggestive one would end in a sunset at the beach, riding a white horse together while the ending credits played shortly after- the humour helped you calm your nerves.

On the other hand Osamu couldn't really put his finger on why he had done what he did. It wasn't like him to be petty, at least not to people he didn't really know.

Maybe it's because he sometimes saw you at their matches, maybe it was because he learnt that you were a waitress at the cafe near the school, or maybe it was because you looked damn cute tucking your hair behind your ear.

Besides the momentary self-questioning he paid no more attention to it. He even almost forgot about the whole ordeal if it wasn't for your small figure waiting at the school gate rather apprehensively.

Why does it feel so awkward when you're waiting for someone at a crowded place? You cursed under your breath as the glances thrown about felt like you were under scrutiny. You prayed that his friends wouldn't caught you waiting for him.

You planned to bail after the second the main gate was officially closed, and it was about to.

"Sorry, did I keep you waitin'?" You hear a familiar voice beside you, Osamu waited for your reply but his feet didn't. You instantly tried to match his pace despite being a half a beat late.

His strides were long and confident, making a bee line towards the nearest convenience store. "It's fine," you said, "I didn't wait that long."

You both found yourselves looking at the various choices of onigiri. The shelves were decked with the savoury treat neatly, and the fact that there wasn't much people in the mart softened your edge. You looked up and studied his face, he's a lot taller up close, a scent of shoe protecting spray made it's way to your nose; it was mixed with fabric softener and a rubber smell. You took advantage and paid attention to his details, the obvious ones and the subtle ones, a deep appreciation of them settled at your stomach- making you feel slightly better from the lingering flu.

When he finally decided his pick you assumed that he'd bid his farewell and leave. But you were still beside him, walking with him, as he silently ate his cheap onigiri (finishing it with three bites).

"Sorry again," the silence was deafening, you needed to say something, "about the drink."

Osamu scrunched the wrapper and shoved it in his pocket. His big build and height was made perfectly for the school uniform- it never ceases to capture your attention every now and again.

"S'okay, we're even now." He flashed a small smile to your direction. "So you work here?" He nods over to the café around the corner.

You had forgotten about yourself for a split second and caught a glimpse of the familiar glass doors and wooden chairs.

"Yeah," you replied weakly, still remembering the embarrassing scenario that scarred you for a month.

Osamu looked deep in thought, "you're not workin' today?" At the back of your mind you realised how his dialect sounded extremely captivating, especially since he's talking to you firsthand.

This was also the most you've ever talked to the guy you've been crushing on since your highschool days started, being completely calm and interesting but not too eager was pertinent. "I usually work Fridays and the weekends," you laughed nervously, "cause I'm cheaper than my coworkers."

_Idiot_ , you thought bitterly to yourself. That was extremely lame, it just sounds pitiful.

Osamu on the other hand didn't look too confused about what you meant by it. "That's cool," one corner of his lips curled up.

He stopped his tracks in the middle of a cross section, this must be the moment when they both part ways.

And it was. After a short goodbye you had found yourself in your room and smiling like a lunatic. You hadn't even realised it until you went and saw yourself in the reflection of your window.

Bathing in his presence felt like the only thing you want to do, back then you were content with just knowing him in the background, perhaps you've gotten a little greedy over the holidays. You wanted to be by his side again, it didn't matter if the feelings weren't mutual.

Osamu had also reached home and when he did he was greeted with an unfamiliar feeling. It wasn't unusual for females to like him, he should have gotten used to the feeling of being liked, but this time it seems like it was the other way around. He did like her right? He truly didn't know, his mind growing frustrated by the second. He never knew how to court girls for he had always been in their interest.

You've always thought that there'd be no story here, but due to your own selfishness there just might be.

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys, this is my first published work here, sorry if there's anything out of place I'm still trying to figure things out :)


End file.
